Relapse
by KalenCaelli
Summary: It wasn't supposed to mean anything. Little did they know it would mean everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Relapse**

 **Author: KalenCaelli**

 **Pairing: Amanda Rollins/Olivia Benson**

 **Rating: M**

 **General Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, I simply borrow them from Dick Wolf, play with them, and put them back a little worse for wear but much, much happier.**

 **Author's Disclaimer: EXPLICIT SEX! Have I got your attention now, okay good. Now that everyone has automatically zoomed into the seventh line on the screen, more or less, let me please announce the following. I make no apologies if you are reading this story expecting anything but sex to happen (It's rated M, for crying out loud), and so if anything remotely about that bothers you, please send me a self addressed stamped envelop and $100 and I will mail you a very pretty card and a dozen chocolate chip cookies. With my condolences.**

 **Author's Note: This project is really the fault of three people – Sheepish, Carrie Underwood, and AgapeandZoe, in that order. Sheepish, because she wrote about a concept that I absolutely loved, and that was the idea of Amanda and Olivia turning to each other for comfort throughout the last several seasons of the show. I blame Carrie Underwood because she wrote this little song called "Relapse" (Song, meet story, story, meet song), that I listened to and said "WHO WROTE THAT FUCKING SONG ABOUT AMANDA ROLLINS AND OLIVIA BENSON" (Yes, in caps, just like that). And you can blame AgapeandZoe because even though she only wrote my second favorite ship (Sorry you Cabenson lovers, but Rolivia is my first love), she gave me a nudge off this cliff and this behemoth was born. It was supposed to be a one shot, which turned into a three shot, and now my mind is in production talks with my muse for a potential sequel, side arcs, and merchandising (with a third of all proceeds going to the author's wallet 'cuz she broke).**

 **One final thing...Noah, Jessie, and Frannie don't exist in this universe, though I may possibly bring them in play in a sequel. I just can't see either woman going out for booty calls with any of the aforementioned. Sorry dog lovers. My shih tzus aren't speaking to me, if it makes you feel any bet...oh, now they want food.**

 **If you haven't listened to the Carrie Underwood song, seriously, go listen to it. Download Spotify, or Apple Music, or Pandora, whatever, and listen to it. It's pretty fucking amazing.**

 **February 2016**

Amanda isn't supposed to be here.

She isn't supposed to be outside _her_ door, hand poised to knock, body shaking, mind racing with pent-up emotion and need.

After the last time, Olivia had practically thrown her out of the apartment, insisting that _this_ could no longer happen, as if _this_ is some type of contagious disease. Even though _this_ wasn't supposed to mean anything in the first place. Just meaningless sex between two consenting adults. No strings. No talk of relationships or futures or _feelings_. Just two people finding release and escape from the harsh reality that they faced on a daily basis.

Sometimes she even stormed out of her own volition, her relationship with Olivia built on a delicate balance of wary respect and contentiousness that seemed to follow them even as Olivia rose through the ranks from detective to sergeant and now lieutenant. They push each other's buttons. They challenge each other. But ultimately, at the end of the day, they _need_ each other.

Amanda knocks on the door, listening as the silence gives way to the sound of footsteps padding across the living room floor. There is a pause as they near the door, however, a moment's hesitation. Then a muffled sigh as a chain is removed, locks turned, and the door slips open, the taller, curvier form of her boss appearing in the door frame. Even in a pair of black yoga pants and an off-the-shoulder purple sweater, Olivia is gorgeous. Her long brown hair is twisted up in a bun and messily clipped into place, loose tendrils tucked behind her ears.

She is sorely tempted to reach across the threshold and loosen that bun, dragging her fingers through hair she knows is smooth as silk.

"What are you doing here, Rollins?" Olivia is clearly annoyed, because she not only knows why Amanda is here, but she already knows she'll participate.

Amanda's eyes slide from Olivia's to the glass coffee table where her boss' laptop is open next to a half-full glass of red wine. The nearby bottle is half-empty, a silent reminder that the pornography case they'd just closed affected them all pretty deeply. Cases involving children always did, and this one was especially bad.

"Rollins?"

Blue eyes met brown. "I just needed a place to go." That she was hiding from her own demons, that persistent, niggling urge to head to one of her old gambling haunts, to lose herself in the smell of stale cigarettes and taste of alcohol – the slick feel of a fresh deck of cards on the scratchy felt of a blackjack table – was left unspoken.

"And so you chose my place?" Olivia deadpans, hesitation and resistance radiating from her body. They have been down this road so many times. Sometimes Amanda initiates it, sometimes Olivia. But it always ends up in the same place.

Amanda swallows, her throat dry. The possibility that Olivia would refuse her has crossed her mind, but she hasn't come up with a contingency plan. She tries for teasing, arching an eyebrow, a wry smirk curling the corners of her lips. "You have company?"

Olivia's frown deepens into a scowl. "Don't you have someplace else to go? Fin's place, or Carisi's?" A beat. "A meeting?" She steps back, making as if to close the door.

If only all addictions were so easy. But they didn't make Twelve Step programs when your addiction is a _person_.

Amanda quickly slips a hand through the opening, resting it on the white painted doorframe, the door itself coming to a halt less than an inch from her hand. She fights to keep the panic from her throat, knowing that if the door closed, this _thing_ between them would be over. "Please. Liv."

There had been relatively few rules when this _thing_ between them started, most of them unspoken.

"I thought I told you this could no longer happen."

Yes, she'd been told. But she's never been much of a rule follower since joining Manhattan's special victim unit and sees no point in starting now. Not to mention Olivia violates her own rules almost as often as Amanda does. "But what do you _want_?"

Olivia hesitates, indecision etched across those sculpted features, door opening a sliver more. There was one iron-clad rule that has never been tested, never been violated – either one of them could walk away from _this_ at any time.

Cerulean blue eyes meet chocolate brown in a long, silent pause.

The door eases open, finally inviting Amanda inside.

* * *

 **November 2011**

Malone's was a bar that every cop knew about, and one of the first places Amanda found herself spending her free time after joining the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. Going home alone was still dangerous — the circumstances behind her abrupt departure from Atlanta a little too fresh, the trauma a little too real.

She should be thrilled, elated even, that they had solved the case. Gia Eskas was finally getting the justice that had so very long been denied, her uncle behind bars, another pedophile off the streets.

Maybe if Gia was exceptionally lucky, he'd get shanked while he was at Rikers.

So why didn't she feel better?

Lifting the rim of the glass to her lips, the blonde tossed back the amber liquid, feeling the harsh burn of the whiskey as it slid down her throat, tapping her fingers twice on the counter, urging the bartender, Tom, to bring her another.

Had that been two, or three? It was hard to keep track when she was tipsy.

Once again, Amanda found her thoughts migrating back to Atlanta and to Kim, wondering if she was finally managing to stay out of trouble. Kim ... who was so very much like Gia, and because Amanda was not much older they wouldn't listen and by the time anyone did listen to Amanda about the abuse going on underneath their very noses, the damage had already been done. Amanda spent the rest of her childhood and teenage years protecting her little sister, bailing her out of trouble, cleaning up her messes while her father ran and her mother drank and Patton...

No. She wouldn't go there.

Blue eyes slid along the length of the scarred and knotted surface of the bar, resting on a familiar figure. Amanda wondered how she had missed the fact that she was not alone. Taking her freshly refilled glass, Amanda slid off her barstool and migrated towards where her colleague was nursing a bottle of beer, unfocused brown eyes locked onto the TV in the corner.

At one point in time, before she had left Atlanta, Olivia Benson had been her role model. But the older woman had hardly rolled out the welcome mat for Amanda and her fellow rookie Nick Amaro. Granted, Olivia had been adapting to the fact that she'd just lost her partner of twelve years, but it had still been demoralizing.

"This seat taken?" Amanda set her glass down on the counter next to Olivia, the brunette startling at the unexpected company. She hadn't bothered to change out of her pale peach shirt and brown slacks, and based on the fact that Olivia was wearing the same navy blouse and grey pants she'd worn earlier, Amanda guessed she had come straight from the precinct as well.

"Rollins," there was a hint of annoyance at the unexpected company, annoyance that was quickly masked behind layers upon layers of carefully schooled emotion. Olivia dipped her head towards the stool on her right, the older detective arching an eyebrow at her blonde colleague. "What brings you here?"

Amanda took a sip of her drink, resting her forearms on the bar. "Same as you. Trying to wind down after a tough case." Trying to erase the image of Kim's face superimposed on Gia's body. Trying to erase the feel of _his_ grubby little fingers as she offered herself to him if he would just quit touching _her_ little sister. "I guess my apartment was a little too quiet." There, easier to change topic, to forget. It wasn't like she'd had a lot of time to make friends. Amanda's fingers drummed a relentless rhythm on her right thigh. "What about you, Olivia? Anyone to go home to?"

Olivia snorted, taking a long sip off her beer. "Do this job long enough, Rollins, and you'll find that there are two types of men out there — those that are turned off by what we do and those that are turned _on_ by it. Don't bother trying to chase the former and run hard and fast from the latter."

Amanda polished off the remainder of her whiskey at the same time Olivia finished her bottle, the two women each raising their hand for another round. Misery apparently loved company.

"Kind of makes you wonder how you can trust any man out there," Amanda trailed her finger along the rim of her glass, her cerulean gaze leveled on the melting ice. Though they'd only been working together a couple of months, Amanda knew about the shooting that happened less than a month before she came on board. Knew that Olivia's partner had left without explanation, ending one of the longest-lived partnerships in the SVU.

Knew about the rumors that insinuated there was something more than just a partnership there. Knew there were also other rumors that instead paired the brunette with Alex Cabot before she left to go work in Africa.

"There are few good ones out there." Olivia's tone softened, almost wistful. Amanda wondered if she was thinking about Elliott. Taking another long drink of her beer, Olivia regarded Amanda solemnly, "What about you, Rollins? You had time to start seeing anyone yet?"

Her bookie. Somehow, Amanda knew that Olivia would be less than impressed if she knew that particular vice, so she shook her head. "Would be nice though, having someone to go home to after a case like this. Hell, even a mindless fuck would be nice. Anything to forget for a couple of hours."

Did she really just say that? Maybe she'd had more to drink than she'd thought. And could Olivia's eyebrow arch any higher? As the heat suffused her cheeks, Amanda hurriedly added, "Don't tell me the thought hasn't ever crossed your mind, Liv. Pick up someone at the bar, take them home, have some kick ass sex for the sake of it."

Chocolate eyes darkened as Olivia looked away, drinking from her beer, ignoring the question. A long string of expletives ran through her mind, Amanda pursing her lips together, wondering if the tentative inroads she'd made past that iron shell had suddenly disappeared because she'd gotten a little _too_ personal, _too_ real.

Amanda had admired Olivia from afar well before she'd put in for a transfer from Atlanta. From her ridiculously high case closure rates to the commendations and accolades praising her work with victim's rights groups, Amanda placed the brunette on a pedestal long before they ever met.

Was it stupid? Yes. Ridiculous. Yes. But it was what it was.

Then the word came that Elliot out in his papers, and Amanda watched as a light went out in those brown eyes.

Maybe Amanda would have felt the same way, in Olivia's shoes. Twelve years was a long time, for any partnership.

These days Olivia was all business, rarely cracking a smile even as the rest of the squad began coalescing into a new normal.

"I'm not gay, Rollins." That steely gaze swiveled over, pinning Amanda with its intensity.

God, was it possible to die of embarrassment? Amanda wished the floor beneath her would open up and make her disappear.

"Never implied that you were," Amanda countered, her heart thudding so hard she could practically feel it hitting the wall of her chest. Taking another sip of her liquor, "Never believed in labels much myself." Wondering if she even dares to ask.

As good as her poker face was, Olivia's was even better.

Amanda polished off the last of her glass, deciding this would be the absolute last time she'd drink with Olivia, drumming her fingers on the counter as she tried to get the bartender's attention for her tab.

"So if we're going do this, we need to have a few rules." It took a few moments for Olivia's words to sink in, Amanda's nervous tapping grinding to a halt as her eyes shifted around to meet the brunette's. Had she actually heard her right? Did Liv just say what she thought she said?

Olivia's lips were pursed together. "I don't date coworkers, Rollins, and I'm not looking to get into a relationship. This is a one time thing. No staying the night."

Oh shit. She did.

"One time, no nights," Amanda echoed back, blinking, her thoughts moving fuzzily through her head, like fog. Both women fell silent as the bartender delivered their tabs.

"Absolutely no one can find out about this." There was a nervousness that belied this second request, Olivia's eyes darting around the room as if a camera crew were going to jump out of the shadows and start filming. Each woman threw down their credit cards on top of their tabs, easing the way for a quick getaway if need be.

Amanda suddenly wished she'd ordered another round. She didn't have nearly enough alcohol in her system to be discussing this.

"No one will hear about it from me." Amanda was fairly certain that if anybody found out her body would never be found.

"This isn't about feelings," a slightly pained expression crossing Olivia's features before slipping behind that ever-stoic mask. Amanda wondered if that slight tell had anything to do with Stabler or Cabot. "Please don't try to make it otherwise."

"Geez, you really know how to make a girl feel special," Amanda quipped, ignoring the subtle stab of hurt that contrasted her outwardly flippant demeanor. She must have been stupid for ever wishing, for hoping, that there could be more between them.

Maybe this was what had to be. All that could ever be. And maybe she was selling herself short. But right now, in this moment, she didn't care.

"Okay this was a mistake," Olivia muttered, olive cheeks flushing darker as she slid off her bar stool, her black wool winter coat draped over her arm, intent on leaving before Amanda grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry, it was a joke," Amanda placated, gripping just firmly enough to prevent the brunette from making a quick escape into the snowy night. Brown eyes shot daggers at her, tugging. "A bad one." Amanda hastily amended, and the tugging stopped. "But I understand. Just meaningless sex."

"And either one of us can walk away at any time." Olivia's tone was glacial, though she no longer pulled against Amanda's grip.

"Is that what you want to do?" Amanda's arm dropped to her side, her gaze never moving from Olivia's own. "Walk away?"

Warm brown eyes met cooler blue in a silent battle of wills.

"Grab your coat, Rollins. I'm driving."

Only later would it ever occur to Amanda the irony behind Olivia's final rule. Because if it was always going to be just one time then there should be no need to have a rule about walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks everyone for all of the amazing reviews and feedback. Some stories write themselves, and though this one didn't go in the direction I was expecting it to go, I'm more than happy to let the characters talk for themselves. Another quick thanks to Lalarandoms who, as one reviewer points out, had the original idea of Amanda and Liv turning to each other during difficult times.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **February 2016**

They have both walked away. On multiple occasions. The problem is they can never stay away, not for long.

The longest stretch came on the heels of the William Lewis ordeal. Then Amanda waited, fearful that if she initiated anything with Olivia it would trigger her. Frankly she'd been surprised when Olivia showed up on her doorstep almost six months later, hungry and eager to prove a point, if only to herself.

The second longest had been in the aftermath of the Nadari case, when Olivia was so angry with Amanda that she could barely look at her, and Amanda so wracked with guilt that she could barely face her superior. Three months later it had been Amanda who'd reached out, expecting rejection, surprised to find absolution.

Through traumas and triumphs, through cases and through boyfriends, they are the one constant in each other's lives, knowing that they can call upon the other time for any comfort at any time.

It's what they need, even if it's not what they want.

"Want some?" Olivia is already walking to the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet above the stovetop because she knows what Amanda is going to say before she says it.

"Yeah," Amanda sinks onto the couch, toeing her sneakers off because she already knows that Olivia will let her stay. Her eyes dart over to the computer, unsurprised to find that it is her boss' COMSTAT report on the Abraham case. Unsurprised to see it is only half-finished. It was a rough case for everyone involved, but for Olivia more than most. Abraham may have been a pretentious asshole, but between the media fallout on the NYPD and the fact that his wife is good friends with her lieutenant, everyone has been riding the razor's edge for far too long. And her lieutenant is right in the middle of it.

Olivia returns with a second glass, settling on the white couch, one foot tucking underneath her body, gently closing her laptop and cradling her glass of wine like it's going to grow legs and run away. Amanda gingerly takes a sip of the wine, pleased to find that it's one she enjoys, and then takes a larger one, leveling an expectant gaze on her superior.

"Rollins, I told you we can't do this, not anymore," Olivia's distant brown eyes are leveled at some point over Amanda's shoulder, her long fingers tightening around the stem of the wineglass. "I'm your boss, and I'm in charge of this unit, and if the brass were to find out about this it'd cost us more than just our badges. They'd take our careers, our pensions," she pauses, hesitating for a second, "the scandal would destroy this unit."

Amanda expects this, expects the resistance. One sex scandal in the NYPD was more than enough. Two would be a clusterfuck. But she also knows Olivia. Knows that if Olivia intended to end things she wouldn't have made it past the front door. If they had followed the NYPD rule book, there wouldn't have ever been a first time to begin with. Knows that if they had wanted a relationship, wanted _this_ to continue, one or the other of them should have left the precinct, especially after Olivia was promoted.

But the blonde keeps silent, because arguing has never gotten her a damn thing with this woman.

And she loves her all the more for that simple fact, rules be damned.

Amanda takes a sip of the ruby liquid, staring down at the coffee table, mulling a response, knowing Olivia expects her to argue, expects her to take the bait.

So she does the exact opposite.

"Okay, Liv."

Brown eyes widen then blink in surprise, and Amanda knows she has guessed right. "Okay?" Olivia repeats slowly, her voice dragging the last syllable out as if she's still expecting the argument to follow.

Amanda nods, even though it's the last thing she wants to do. She's voiced the same arguments, many times over, so it's no surprise when they're parroted back. Trying to convince herself that she doesn't want Olivia Benson. Doesn't _need_ her. Carefully setting her wineglass on a coaster, Amanda shifts her weight onto her right leg, grabbing Olivia's glass with her other hand, gently prying it from the older woman's fingers.

"Amanda..." Olivia's tone is low, warning.

It is only in private that Olivia addresses her as such. Amanda presses a finger against plump lips, forestalling further arguments as she closes the intervening distance rapidly, her lips halting within an inch of the brunette's, hearing the sharp hiss of air as Olivia holds her breath. "Then at least let me say goodbye."

* * *

 **November 2011**

"Do you want something to drink?"

The question snapped Amanda out of her stupor, baby blue eyes slipping towards the end of the small galley kitchen and to the woman who looked at her expectantly, one hand reaching into the cabinet.

"What are you having?" Amanda's throat was dry, parched even, and what she really needed was some water. Her head was swimming, not just from the alcohol but from the knowledge that she was about to have sex with her female colleague.

"Probably some red wine," a slender eyebrow arched as she regarded Amanda, those sharp eyes taking in the blonde's ghostly demeanor. "You all right Rollins?"

"Amanda."

"What?" Olivia's face was pursed in confusion.

Amanda closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, reminding herself that outside of the precinct, she and Olivia are equals. And that this — whatever _this_ is — is just sex.

A gentle hand came to rest on her arm, and Amanda opened her eyes, surprised to see genuine concern showing in Olivia's features. "Are you okay?"

Amanda smiled, feeling more relaxed than she had all evening. "Outside of the precinct, call me Amanda."

Olivia's features visibly relaxed, and for the first time Amanda wondered if the brunette was just as nervous as she was. "Okay, Amanda, what would you like to drink?"

"Red wine will be fine, and maybe some bottled water." Olivia smirked at the last request, pulling down two wine glasses and grabbing a bottle of water from her refrigerator, tossing it to her fellow detective. While it did nothing for her nerves, the water did soothe her parched throat, and she finished half the bottle before accepting the wine glass Olivia held out for her.

"So, um, have you done this before?" Olivia took a large sip of her wine.

A one night stand? Sure. Sleep with a colleague? Amanda refused to go there.

Be with a woman? Other than some heavy petting during a drunken college co-ed party...the answer was no.

But Olivia had not specified, so she nodded, taking a drink from her own glass. "You?" Keeping the question purposely vague.

Olivia nodded curtly, a equally vague but fitting response, tracing a well-manicured finger along the lip of her glass. The two women continued drinking in silence, the tension steadily building, waiting to see who would break first.

Olivia sat her glass aside, drawing Amanda closer while simultaneously relieving her of her own glass, the space between the two women disappearing, brown eyes meeting blue with a sudden intensity that took Amanda's breath away.

There was a moment's pause, their breaths mingling, a heady anticipation, an acknowledgement that things were about to change between them.

And just like that, she was kissing Olivia Benson.

A noise that was a cross between a whimper and a moan erupted from Amanda's throat, her hands lifting to frame Olivia's face, deepening the kiss, totally immersing herself in the moment. The impossibly soft feel of her lips. The taste of the wine against her tongue. The way Liv's mouth parted, granting her tongue permission to explore even deeper, brushing past the tips of her teeth to entwine with her own.

Olivia's hands slid in opposite directions along the curvature of her spine, one hand snaking its way to entangle within her hair, the other slipping south, cupping Amanda's backside and pulling her hips even closer.

They gasped simultaneously, the kiss breaking, albeit reluctantly, as both sets of eyes fluttered open. Olivia and Amanda locked gazes, as if they were seeing each other for the first time.

"Bed," Olivia panted, resting her forehead against the blonde's, blinking slowly, as if coming out of a daze.

"Now," Amanda agreed, tracing a tongue across her own lower lip, committing to memory the faint taste of berries that she would forever associate with Olivia.

Then Olivia dipped her head again, capturing Amanda's mouth once more in a fiery kiss; her teeth, lips, and tongue working in flawless synchronization, her hands migrating to the blonde's hips and gently nudging her in the direction of the bedroom.

Amanda was content to follow Olivia's lead since she didn't know where she was going. Besides, with the way Olivia was kissing her she was far more likely to run into a wall than find her way uninjured into Olivia's bed.

Nibbling at the blonde's lower lip, Olivia briefly pressed the bedroom door open, backing the younger detective until they halted at the edge of the mattress.

"God, you are so good at that," Olivia murmured, reaching up to trail the backs of her fingers along Amanda's high cheekbone, her brown eyes darkened with arousal.

"That's supposed to be my line," Amanda teased, the corner of her mouth curling into a half-smile, attempting to inject a little levity into an extremely tense situation.

Standing there, for the first time, toe-to-toe with Olivia Benson at the edge of her bed, Amanda wondered if she'd made a mistake.

How was she ever going to be able to walk away from this?

* * *

 **February 2016**

Olivia Benson still tastes like berries.

She is the lone participant in this kiss, the brunette refusing to reciprocate, though Amanda can feel her resolve wavering as she trails her fingertips along Olivia's cheeks, tenderly cupping the side of her face. Nibbling along the border of Olivia's lower lip, Amanda bites down gently, hearing the other woman's harsh inhale, then shaky exhale as she soothes the area with her tongue.

A low whine erupts from Olivia's throat, the brunette's renowned composure breaking, and her arms slip around Amanda's smaller frame, drawing the blonde onto her lap so that Amanda is straddling her, knees firmly planted on either side of Olivia's hips.

"God, what you still do to me." Olivia murmurs between kisses. It's more of a prayer than a question, but to Amanda's ears it's pure poetry.

The blonde loosely drapes her arms over Olivia's shoulders. She can already feel the heat radiating from Olivia's core, knows that all she has to do is ask and Olivia would take her right now, right here on the sofa. It wouldn't be the first time.

She knows that come Monday they will return back to the squad room as if nothing has ever happened, because that was their agreement, a drunken pact made long ago. Just one of their many rules.

But Amanda Rollins has never been much of a rule follower.

Feathering kisses along the curvature of Olivia's jaw, Amanda leans in, her fully-clothed body molding intimately against the figure that meshes so well with her own, her lips coming to a halt beside the arch of Olivia's ear.

"Let me make love to you."

Six little words she's never said aloud. Words she has rehearsed a dozen times over, in front of mirrors, when lying alone in bed at night, even on her daily jogs through Central Park. Six little words she has been terrified to speak, afraid of what follows.

It is a fundamental violation of all they had agreed upon, back when this all began.

The body below her tenses, fingernails digging into the fabric of her T-shirt. At once Amanda fears she's made a terrible mistake, an irrevocable mistake, and her breath hitches in her throats when Olivia pulls back, that laser-like focus coming to bear. She wishes she could backtrack, wishes that she could somehow rewind time.

Wishes that she had never found the courage to approach Olivia in the bar. At least then she wouldn't have to know the pain of having her heart ripped out when she is rejected.

Her eyes watering, Amanda forces her gaze somewhere, anywhere but on the woman who has unknowingly stolen her heart.

"Amanda..."

The bookshelf, the artwork, the air conditioning vent.

Find anything. Anything. Just not on Liv.

Olivia captures Amanda's chin between her thumb and her forefinger, forcing the younger woman to meet that penetrating gaze, brown eyes almost black, unreadable. Amanda's breath hitches in her chest, her heart clenching painfully at her boss' stoic expression.

"About our rules..."

 _Those fucking rules_.

She doesn't know why she should have expected anything else but this. Not from Olivia Benson, a woman she fell in love with before she even left Atlanta. A woman she fights with as much as she makes love with.

Amanda swallows, her throat suddenly dry, tears filling her big blue eyes.

"Our... rules..." It is hard to speak. Hard to formulate a coherent thought. Afraid this is somehow all just a dream. That she will wake up and walk into the squad room to find her transfer papers on her desk.

Olivia's grip on her chin gradually relaxes, and she trails a finger down the center of Amanda's lower lip. Those warm brown eyes soften, filled with a tenderness, an earnestness that Amanda has never seen.

"Our rules be damned. Now take me to bed."

* * *

 **November 2011**

Their lips crashed together once more, tongues dueling for supremacy, each woman gasping for air, breathy moans and ragged panting echoing throughout the room.

Deft fingers plucked at the buttons on her blouse, and Amanda was suddenly grateful that she'd at least worn matching blue lingerie. It wasn't as if she woke up that morning and decided to suddenly bang Olivia Benson.

Amanda gasped when Liv's fingers slipped underneath her now-open shirt, fingers skating along well-toned stomach muscles, which quivered involuntarily at the feather-light caress. Her nipples tightened painfully as the brunette's fingers skirted past her bra, pushing the sleeves of her blouse off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.

As sorely tempting as it would be to rip Olivia's shirt down the middle, Amanda forced herself to show restraint, knowing that the brunette would not appreciate her ruining a perfectly good blouse over a one night stand. Trailing her lips down Olivia's chin to the hollow of her throat, Amanda gently latched onto her pulse point and sucked, careful to not leave a mark, her own hands fumbled briefly with the top button of the taller woman's shirt before finding their rhythm.

One by one, she plucked at the buttons, exposing more and more of that olive skin, her heart racing as she catches that first glimpse of Olivia's bulbous breast peeking out from behind a wine-colored bra.

"Damn it, Amanda," Olivia groaned, her hands rubbing up and down the shorter woman's back, slipping into her hair, grabbing her backside and squeezing, constantly moving. "Hurry it up or I'm gonna finish the job myself."

Amanda laughed lightly, pushing the fabric over Olivia's shoulders, drawing back just enough to catch her impatient expression. "Now that would be something to see," she teased, light eyes twinkling, dragging her nails lightly across Olivia's back and unclasping her bra.

Her heart nearly stopped beating when Olivia rolled her shoulders, the lacy fabric slipping from her shoulders and falling on the ground. Blue eyes skimmed hungrily over the tanned skin of Olivia's chest, following the gently sloping curves to the darker hues of her rapidly hardening nipples.

This woman was a goddess.

Olivia snorted. "That's not happening. And you have entirely too many clothes on, Rollins."

" _Amanda_ ," the blonde corrected gently, drawing a shaky breath as Liv reached around her body and unhooked her bra. She felt a little self-conscious standing there half-naked in front of her coworker, especially when that coworker looked the way that Olivia Benson did.

As if reading her mind, a pair of fingers pressed lightly underneath her chin. "You look beautiful, Amanda." Olivia reassured her.

 _You look beautiful._

 _You look beautiful._

Amanda couldn't remember the last time anyone had actually told her that.

Olivia's palms slipped down the length of Amanda's arms, leaving goosebumps their wake, gently taking Amanda by the hands and guiding her to the bed, pushing aside the tan duvet and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Amanda followed Olivia's lead, sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her boots and her socks. The blonde was reaching for the top button on her pants when Olivia's hands covered her own.

"Let me help you with that," long, dexterous fingers unbuttoned and unzipped her brown slacks. Amanda's breath quickened when Olivia knelt by the bed, but nonetheless laid back and lifted her hips, shivering when the brunette removed both her pants and her underwear in one smooth motion, grateful she'd at least taken care of her personal hygiene matters the day before.

Olivia stood abruptly, hands moving to unbutton her own slacks when Amanda pushed off her elbow, brushing the brunette's fingers aside with a grin. "Turnabout is fair play." Deftly undoing the older woman's pants, Amanda hooked her fingers beneath the band of Olivia's underwear and gave them a sharp tug.

And promptly stopped breathing.

Olivia Benson was an absolute _vision_.

Amanda's blue gaze shifted from Liv's feet (with purple polish no less – it was becoming her new favorite color) up the long line of Olivia's legs to a neatly trimmed patch of dark curls at the apex. Only when her lungs were burning for air did she finally breathe, her lungs filling with air and a scent she recognized as absolutely intoxicating.

"Are you finished staring?" Olivia's voice was tight, and the thought briefly occurred to Amanda that maybe, just maybe, Olivia was just as insecure and nervous about her body, and about this, as she was.

"I was just admiring the view," Amanda admitted shyly, and Olivia rolled her eyes, crawling into the bed beside the blonde. She propped her weight up on her elbow, mirroring the brunette. "You're absolutely beautiful, Liv."

Olivia's lower lip was caught between her teeth, like she wanted to say something, but after a minute went by and with the awkward silence between them growing, Amanda decided she needed to act before the older woman could back out.

Meaningless sex between consenting adults. Forgetting the world that they live in, if only for a moment.

She leaned over, pressing her lips against the brunette's, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging lightly, feeling the last of her hesitation melt away. Olivia sidled closer, both women releasing a simultaneous rush of air as their naked bodies came into contact for the first time.

Olivia's body was soft, impossibly soft, and those extra inches of height meant that her body moulded perfectly to Amanda's own, hardened nipples grazing soft skin, hands sliding over smooth curves. Amanda's breath grew ragged when Olivia began kissing along her jawline, and when the brunette captured an earlobe between her teeth, she cried out, growing impossibly wetter as her leg found its way between Olivia's own.

"Oh God, Liv." More coherent thought seemed impossible. How could she have not known how good this could feel? Amanda was desperate for something, anything, to grab onto. Her hands slid past the dip of Olivia's back, grabbing her backside and pulling those same hips against her thigh, feeling the slick heat of the brunette's arousal as they rocked together, almost frantic, needy.

"Fuck, Amanda. You are driving me crazy," Olivia gasped, pulling away, leaving Amanda strangely bereft until she realized those lips were making their way lower. Amanda's eyes fluttered closed when she felt those impossibly full lips wrap around one nipple, then the other, suckling tentatively at first, then with a greater confidence as Amanda writhed beneath her.

The blonde was so focused on the undeniably erotic feel of Olivia's mouth that she almost missed the nearly imperceptible creep of the Liv's fingers along her inner thigh, their frenetic pace slowing as those same fingers trailed up along the crease of her lower lips.

If Amanda's heart could stop beating, she was almost certain it would.

Baby blue eyes flew open, their surprised expression locked onto Olivia's, whose focus was locked onto Amanda's face. The brunette frowned, and her lips, which had been trailing kisses between the valley of Amanda's breasts, slowed, Liv's fingers stilling.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, concerned eyes darting back and forth, trying to read her expression. Amanda nodded frantically. Speech was all but impossible. God help her if Liv tried to back out now. Amanda wasn't sure her heart could take it.

Olivia visibly relaxed, leaning down to kiss her once more. Her fingers slid lower, circling Amanda's entrance, one finger slipping inside, followed by a second, gliding through the warmth until they filled her completely. Amanda's grip on Olivia's back tightened momentarily when she felt the brunette begin to pull out, loosening once more when Olivia thrust even deeper.

Together, they began to establish an easy rhythm of thrusts and of counter-thrusts. The occasional creaking of the bed frame interspersed the gasps and moans of the two women. Olivia slipped a third finger inside, stretching her, the brunette's thumb circling the small bundle of nerves peeking out from its protective hood. Amanda felt herself rapidly climbing towards a peak she had never thought possible.

And with one last flick of the thumb, she fell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Well friends, we've come to the end of this particular chapter in these characters' story. It's been amazing to hear all the positive feedback, especially since I haven't written anything in such a long time. I want to thank you for all the reviews, even the ones I couldn't respond to because they were logged in as guests. Reviews are inspirational, and give me valued feedback on what I can do to improve my writing. I have a special treat for you all at the end of this, so please stay tuned.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **February 2016**

Some things don't change.

Olivia Benson is still every bit as beautiful as the day she first laid eyes on her.

Amanda presses a kiss against her bare shoulder, resting her forehead between the brunette's shoulder blades, both women having divested themselves of their clothes the second they entered the bedroom. They are standing by the bedside now, Olivia having just drawn back the covers when Amanda stopped her, savoring the sensation of skin on skin.

And for the first time, she freezes. She realizes that she is afraid.

Afraid that when she leaves here tonight that things will return to the way they've always been — a contentious tug-of-war between two equally strong-willed women. Afraid that this is the way it will always be, Amanda relegated to the sidelines, always last on Olivia's list of ever-expanding priorities. Afraid of feelings she can no longer ignore, feelings that were etched in stone the second she left that bar with Olivia.

The night she became hopelessly addicted to this. Unwilling to move forward. Unable to go back.

"Amanda?"

Amanda inhales abruptly. Being still so long has caught Olivia's attention, the taller woman turning, longer arms slipping over Amanda's own to wrap around the blonde's waist, concerned auburn eyes searching Amanda's face in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

 _I'm in love with you, and I'm not supposed to be, because you'll never be able to love me back._

"Nothing," Amanda replies, because she is as much to blame as Olivia for this. Pressing up on her tiptoes, she brushes her lips across Olivia's. But the brunette hesitates because despite whatever Amanda says, she knows something is wrong. Amanda is insistent, fingers clawing for purchase on that olive back, trying to push her tongue in Olivia's mouth, wanting to ignore. To forget.

"Amanda stop."

Drawing back quickly, Amanda twists out of Olivia's arms, her cheeks flushing crimson as she bends over to scoop up her clothes. "You were right," she mutters, blinking rapidly to clear her blurring vision, "coming here was a mistake."

Olivia attempts to grab her bicep, and when Amanda ducks underneath her outstretched arm, Liv closes the door, intercepting the detective before she can make her escape. Placing her naked body between Amanda and the only exit.

"Will you please just talk to me?" Olivia is frantic as she pleads with Amanda, tears forming in those wide brown eyes.

"When have we ever _just_ talked?" Amanda doesn't want to be having this conversation, not when she is naked and vulnerable and crying in front of her boss. She tries to reach beneath Olivia's arm to grab the doorknob, but Olivia shields it with her body.

"We get to choose when we walk away," Amanda is sobbing openly now, tired and frustrated she can't just fling herself into Olivia's open arms. "Those were _your_ rules. Remember? Back when we started these booty calls?"

Olivia flinches, swiping her arm across her eyes, sniffing back her own tears as she studies the woman in front of her. They remain there, locked in a silent stalemate for a seeming eternity.

"I made a mistake," Olivia begins, her voice wavering ever-so-slightly, "back in the bar. I shouldn't have done that." A pause. "It wasn't fair to myself and it certainly wasn't fair to you." The brunette heaves a deep, shuddering sigh. "I was reeling from the loss of my partner at the time, and from all of the changes in the squad room, and I guess I took it out on you."

It is all Amanda can do not to laugh. "You _guess_?" Clutching her crumpled clothes tightly against her chest like it's her lifeline. "You were a total bitch. I idolized _you_. I wanted to _be_ you. And _you_ treated me like dirt."

"I did." Tears slide down Liv's face. "I was hurting and I didn't know how to deal with it. I had just lost one of the few friends I'd ever had." Olivia's watery gaze remains locked on her own. "And for that I am so very, very sorry."

Amanda closes her eyes. "Why me?"

Olivia laughs mirthlessly. "You _especially_ , Amanda. Because you are young and you were gorgeous and you reminded me so much of me. And Cragen partnered us together and I wanted..." Olivia's voice trailed off. "Maybe I was afraid to admit how attracted I was to you. Maybe he knew something I didn't." Her shoulders shrug. "But I'm not sorry he paired us together."

Olivia closes her eyes and sighs. "The truth is ... I was actually thinking of going over to your place tonight when you showed up on my doorstep."

"I can't..." Amanda sighs, "I can't be your booty call anymore. This... whatever _this_ is. It can't just be sex. It just hurts too damn much."

"This isn't just about sex anymore," Olivia takes a tentative step towards the shorter woman, reaching up with her right hand and cupping Amanda's cheek. "This is about me, and you, and our attraction, and about something that's bigger than us." A swallow. "This is about you agreeing to be my girlfriend." Amanda's breath hitches in her throat. "Amanda Rollins, _I..._ " a pause " _want_ " another " _you_."

 _I want you._ Three little words. Amanda's waited four long years to hear Olivia Benson say those words, and now that she has, Amanda wants nothing more than to run away as hard and as fast as she can.

Sensing her indecisiveness, Olivia slowly raises her hands, eyes pleading with Amanda to stay put, taking a giant step towards a chair where a half-folded pile of laundry sits. She digs impatiently through the stack until she finds what she's looking for, hurriedly tossing on a thigh-length crimson silk robe, tying the sash loosely around her waist.

"Amanda," Olivia pleads, brown eyes imploring the younger woman to at least hear her out. "Stay, please."

"You just want to get laid," Amanda jokes weakly. It stings, that this is all _this_ ever was.

"No sex," Olivia shakes her head, catching Amanda by surprise. "I'll find you something to sleep in. Just talking, cuddling, and sleeping."

That truly catches Amanda off guard. Not once in four years have they ever spent the night together. Not that first night. Not on their worst nights.

"And if I choose to leave?" Her tongue feels about twice it's normal size, her legs rubbery like jello. The thought of leaving all this behind is so very appealing, but the thought of going back to her old life, back when Olivia was just a statue on some far off pedestal...

Olivia swallows thickly, tears falling freely down her face. With a noticeable shudder she opens the door, hand falling from the doorknob. Choking back a sob, the brunette steps away from the doorway.

"Then you can leave."

* * *

 **November 2011**

Amanda laid there, chest heaving, her right arm wrapped around Olivia's sweaty back, processing what had just happened. Olivia's fingers were still inside her, the brunette's face buried in the crook of her neck, seemingly as speechless as Amanda felt.

"Liv, that was..." Amanda trailed off. "Are you _sure_ you haven't done that before?"

Olivia laughed weakly, gradually easing her fingers from inside Amanda and rolling onto her side, elbow propping up her head as she faced the blonde. "You feel okay?"

Right now, she felt pretty fucking amazing about life in general, but she knew what Olivia meant.

"The case? Yeah, I'm good. You?" She knew it wasn't the answer Olivia wanted, but she couldn't help teasing her, if only for a little bit.

"Getting there," the brunette's droll rebuttal drew a bemused smirk from the blonde detective.

"Ah, well that's good." It was hard to keep a straight face when Amanda could practically feel the unspent energy radiating off the woman beside her.

" _A-man-da_ ," Olivia was growing more impatient, and Amanda decided that she'd done enough teasing, smirking as rolled to face the brunette.

"Well, I guess that it's time that I show you," Amanda whispered, seductively, watching as the brunette's eyes darkened with arousal, planting a kiss on those inviting lips.

Olivia hummed into the kiss, her lips parting, granting Amanda access which the blonde gladly accepted, her tongue exploring the other woman's mouth with fiery passion.

She could get lost in this kiss for hours, days even, but since they didn't have that kind of time, Amanda decided to move things along. She trailed a hand along Olivia's belly, fingertips tracing idle patterns along the skin as her fingertips grazed the underside of a breast, cupping its weight in her palm, delighting in the way Olivia's breath shook at this seemingly simple touch.

Her nipples presented a more enticing target, so Amanda traced her fingernails around the darkened borders, wondering at the weight of her breasts, marveling at the softness of Olivia's olive skin and the contrast with the hardened flesh at the tips.

"Amanda," came the breathy moan, her name a sweet serenade from Olivia's lips as Amanda nibbled down the curve of her neck. She dipped her head, tracing a tongue along the hollow of the brunette's throat, hands gently kneading those marvelous breasts.

She spent some time on Olivia's neck, wondering in amazement at the way the older woman's pulse jumped if she kissed it just right, and at the way her own pulse raced when Olivia writhed beneath her. She planted a brief kiss on Olivia's shoulder, trailing a tongue along her collarbone before dipping lower, planting soft kisses down the valley between her two breasts, trailing her tongue around the hardened peak of one of her nipples.

Amanda took the taut nub into her mouth, feeling the body beneath her jump, a pair of hands tangling within her blonde locks. She took her time on each of those marvelous globes, tasting, teasing, delighting in the way Olivia's moans grew both in pitch and intensity.

Olivia tugged on her hair, so Amanda reluctantly left her ministrations, meeting the passionate kiss with gusto. The blonde's heart began racing when Olivia took her by wrist, moving it between her legs and bringing Amanda's hand to cup the source of that heat.

"Please."

Forehead resting against Olivia's own, brown eyes met blue as Amanda dipped two of her fingers through the waiting warmth, trailing them up and down the length of her slit before sliding fully into Olivia's core. Olivia's eyes fluttered closed, her hand reaching up to tangle in Amanda's hair.

Amanda's hand stilled, providing Olivia an opportunity to get used to the intrusion, moving when Olivia's hips began rocking against her wrist. Amanda could not believe the utter perfection of that velvety heat, the subtle contractions of the muscles around her fingers, the increasingly breathy gasps and moans of their coupling.

Her thumb slid through that slickness to find what she was looking for, a nub peeking out from its protective hood, circling it before beginning to exert some pressure against it with her thumb, simultaneously curling her thrusting fingers. It felt like it was only a matter of seconds.

Olivia Benson shattered before her very eyes.

Amanda rode out the contractions, taking the woman up and over her peak, only beginning to slow her motions when Olivia was visibly spent. She pressed a gentle kiss against her toned stomach when she withdrew her fingers, feeling the brunette's shudder as she did so. Amanda had an overwhelming urge to taste them, but, not wanting to alarm her coworker, she crawled up and collapsed on the pillow beside Olivia instead.

Amanda just had the greatest sex of her life, and with the one person she would have never imagined doing it with. And yet all she could feel was an intense loneliness. And sadness.

Olivia Benson had just ruined her for anyone else.

She snuck a quick peek out of the corner of her eye. Olivia was still laying there, eyes moving underneath closed eyelids, breath steady, her hands resting peacefully on top of her tanned stomach.

"I guess I should get dressed and go home." She hopes that Olivia will change her mind, hopes that maybe, just maybe, they can explore this connection they have, and for a moment she's hopeful. Olivia appears torn, as if silently debating whether or not to ask Amanda to stay.

"Okay," Olivia nodded curtly, and Amanda's shoulders fell. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she moves off the bed, dressing in hurried silence. Not once did Olivia's eyes open. Amanda paused when she reached the bedroom door.

"Goodnight, Liv," Amanda wanted to look back, wanted to commit to memory the site of Olivia Benson naked, satiated on her bed. But she was afraid that if she looked back, the brunette would see the tears threatening to fall and she'd be damned if she'd let her see that.

"Goodnight, Amanda."

 **February 2016**

Her hand is on the doorknob, remembering that night. It seems so long ago, and yet it's like it happened yesterday.

The next day, they carried along as if nothing had happened. A month later, Olivia had showed up on her doorstep, and so their dance began. No matter what the case was, no matter who they were seeing at the time — none of _that_ mattered.

There have been so many times they try to stop this, try to move on. But somehow it always circles back.

Olivia and Amanda. Amanda and Olivia.

Amanda turns her head, looking into those warm brown eyes she's come to know so well.

And she closes the door.

"Are you going to get me something to sleep in or am I going to have to stay naked all night?" Turning around, she regards Olivia with a wry smile, an incredible weight lifting from her shoulders. She feels lighter than she has in a decade, a heady rush flowing through her veins.

Olivia lets out a half-sob, hands flying over her mouth, and she leans into Amanda, temples touching. Shifting her clothes underneath her left arm, Amanda reaches up with her free hand and cups the back of Olivia's neck.

"Let's go to bed."

* * *

The sun's rays filter in through the slotted blinds, a narrow band of blinding white light that causes Amanda to groan. The detective rolls onto her side, blinking the bleary remnants of sleep from her eyes, startling slightly when she sees Olivia sprawled on her stomach, snoring softly, lying beside her.

Amanda does the math, realizing that while this may be her day off, Olivia is most decidedly late for work.

True to her word, they had spent the evening prior talking, and cuddling, and talking some more. Other than a couple of short and decidedly sweet kisses, the women did nothing but discuss everything and and anything until the sky began to get lighter. It was the longest they'd spent together without having sex.

"Liv." A bemused smirk crosses her face when, after nudging Olivia, the brunette doesn't move.

"Olivia," a little louder this time. Amanda rolls her eyes when the older woman remains motionless. Deciding it was time to take matters into her own hands, she lifts the covers and tosses a leg over Olivia's bare hips.

Though Olivia had been true to her word and commandeered a set of pajamas for Amanda sleep in, they still remain on the floor, unused, as both women eventually fell asleep in the nude.

"Liv," her voice takes on a low, sultry tone she has so often used to seduce Olivia. Amanda shivers slightly as she bends low over that delectable olive-skinned back and brings her lips down to the brunette's ear.

"Carisi wants to know if he can come to work in a speedo."

Eyelids fly open, and Olivia lets out a low groan.

"You were doing good up until the end there." The brunette stretches out her arms and her legs, joints popping. Amanda lifts slightly, permitting Olivia to roll onto her back, coming to rest on her hips. "Now this is the mental image I prefer."

Amanda laughs lightly, amazed at how good it feels. It's as if they exist in their own little safe haven, away from the darkness that exists outside these four walls.

Loathe to bring it to an end, but knowing she needs to speak up, Amanda idly traces patterns on her Olivia's stomach, feeling the muscles flutter beneath her fingertips. "You're late for work. I must be rubbing off on you."

Olivia blinks sleepily, and smirks. Her arms slip around Amanda's waist, loosely draping over the curve of her hips. "No, I'm not. I got up earlier and called Sergeant Dodds. I'm taking a personal day."

Amanda's mouth falls open, mute. In the four years she has known her, Olivia Benson has never used even one of her personal days. She never misses a day of work — it is the worst kept secret in the precinct.

Sensing the blonde's shock, Liv's eyes soften, her expression wistful. "Amanda, I spent a lot of years putting my career ahead of everything else. I don't want to do that anymore. You are my number one priority now. Everything else can wait."

Amanda doesn't know what to say, so she does the only thing she can and brings her lips to meet Olivia's, a warm glow filling her stomach as she kisses this woman who has come to mean so much to her.

The leisurely kiss lasts until they both require air, and Amanda draws back, resting her forehead against Olivia's, their eyes locking.

"I love you, Olivia." Words she has wanted to say for so long. Words she's feared speaking for fear of the consequences.

Olivia is silent for a long moment, her expression as serious as Amanda has ever seen. Amanda's heart begins pounding, her blood turning to ice in her veins. Her mind begins racing, panicking, wondering if it is too much, too soon.

"Do you always wake up the women you love with such horrific mental images?" Olivia laughs melodically, tugging Amanda onto her chest and hugging the younger woman tightly.

Olivia kisses Amanda once, twice, hard, until the blonde's paralysis is broken. Framing Amanda's face in her hands, Olivia brushes her lips across Amanda's forehead, then against each cheek, before finally pecking her on the mouth.

"And I love you, Amanda."

Three words she has longed to hear but never expected Olivia to say.

Blue eyes fade back into focus, taking in the older woman's serious expression, and she can see that Olivia is not just saying that. She absolutely means it. And for the first time in as long as she can remember, a giddy laughter bubbles out of her chest.

Olivia loves her.

Olivia Benson loves _her_.

Amanda kisses Olivia, hard, pouring every ounce of love and devotion she's buried rise to the surface. They kiss until the lack of air makes them dizzy, breaking apart only from necessity, not desire.

"I'll try," Amanda pants, "to come up with a better way of waking you up," another pant, "next time you try to fake being asleep."

A slender eyebrow rose, brown eyes widening in surprise. "You knew I was awake?"

Amanda nods, smug. "I _am_ a detective."

Olivia's lips curl into a bemused smile. "That, my dear, you are." It is the first time Olivia has called Amanda anything else beside 'Amanda' or 'Rollins' and she takes a moment to savor it, basking in the glow of this newfound happiness.

"The question is, _detective_ , what are _you_ going to do make it up to me," Olivia's eyes are twinkling.

Amanda leans in, smiling, her lips coming within scant millimeters of Olivia's own.

"I can think of a few things."

* * *

She isn't supposed to be here.

Isn't supposed to be inside _her_ apartment, sharing _her_ bed.

This isn't supposed to be about relationships or futures or _feelings_.

It isn't supposed to end this way, two people, each broken in their own way, finding each other and falling in love.

But she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 **Author's Note: As I said before, I want to thank you all for the amazing reviews – and for those of you who have grown as attached as I have, I have a special announcement – next Sunday I will be posting the first chapter of Relapse's sequel.**

 **~ Kalen**


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